Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
AMANDA RAN AFTER HIM, shocked. He still wanted to marry her? She should have known that his sense of honor would far outweigh his anger and her betrayal.
He strode to the quarterdeck, snarling, “Get me a bottle of whiskey.”
An officer leaped to obey.
Amanda hesitated below him on the main deck. He whirled and pointed. “This is not an opportune time.”
She inhaled, rigid now. She needed to explain, if she could.
She could not stand seeing him so angry with her.
And what should she do about his statement that they were to wed?
The terrible truth was, she did not want to fight him, not now and not ever.
She could not triumph over him, anyway, if his mind was made up.
And clearly, his mind was made up now.
“Sir!” MacIver was pale.
Cliff smiled coldly at him. “Do explain your participation in Miss Carre’s games.”
“There was a letter with your orders, sir. It is in my berth. Your signature was affixed to it. I will get it now,” Mac said tersely.
For one moment, Cliff stared at him, his expression harsh and uncompromising. Beneath the anger, she realized, he was hurt. Amanda summoned up her courage and said, stammering, “I forged the orders and your signature.”
He gave her such a chilling look that she decided she was wrong. She hadn’t hurt him—he was furious and he despised her. “How clever.” He turned to Mac. “You will bring the orders to me after your watch.”
The officer came striding forward, a bottle of Irish whiskey and a glass in hand.
Cliff took the bottle, ignoring the glass, tilted his head and drank, long and hard.
Amanda shivered, realizing she was hugging herself.
She should be terrified of such a man in such a state.
If he hated her now—and she thought that he did—how on earth could he even think of marriage?
Because, she thought sadly, he is noble and good.
He drank again. Finally, she saw some of the terrible tension in his shoulders and back ease. Then, slowly, he turned to look down at her. His grim countenance wasn’t as tight or as controlled, nor was it quite as hostile. He gestured with a nod at his cabin.
And Amanda saw the hurt in his eyes.
His anger was a facade. She hated what she had done, but she’d had to leave him, hadn’t she?
She turned and started across the deck, her heart hammering wildly, her shoulders square, trying to keep some composure wrapped about her like a heavy winter cloak.
She heard him land catlike behind her and follow.
She entered his cabin, walked to the bed and placed her back at the footboard, although she hardly expected an assault from behind.
His attack would be direct and brutal. She had not a single doubt.
He paused in the center of the room, standing as if on a bucking ship. Torn from its hinges, the door lay on the floor, the doorway open.
“You left me,” he said tersely, his gaze unwavering on hers.
She exhaled. “I am sorry. I am sorry for borrowing your ship, and I—”
“You left me after the night we shared.”
She tried not to think about being in his arms, when he had seemed to love her as much as she loved him.
“I told you that morning what I intended. The time we shared didn’t change anything.
” She saw him flinch. “It was wonderful, but I meant it when I said I had to go home. I know you are angry. I know I took the coward’s way, and I shouldn’t have conned Mac—”
“I don’t care about the ship!” he cried, stunning her. “I am glad you took my frigate—at least you would be safe from rovers. Damn it! I made love to you and you left me!”
She hugged herself harder, trying to ignore that painful figure of speech. “I knew you would want to marry me, Cliff, for all the wrong reasons. How could I accept that? The night we spent together only fueled my desire to leave.”
“For all the wrong reasons? Our passion fueled your desire to leave me?”
“You misunderstand me,” she cried. “I do not want to hurt you. But you ruined me, you would decide to marry me. Honor is not the right reason, not for me.”
He stepped closer, his gaze piercing. “Do you even know my reasons, Amanda?”
“Yes, I do.” Somehow she tilted up her chin, yet she felt tears falling. “You are the most honorable man I have ever met. I know my letter hardly stated the depth of my feelings, but after all you have done, and all your family has done, you must surely know that leaving you was very difficult.”
“The depth of your feelings,” he said. His nostrils flared, his gaze brilliant. “Do you refer to the friendship you wish to maintain—and your affection for me?” He was cold and sarcastic, taking a final step toward her.
He towered over her now. She wanted to step backward, away from him, but she held her ground. “I didn’t think you would wish to continue our friendship. But it is so important to me. I will beg you to forgive me so we can remain dear friends.”
“I don’t want to be a dear friend,” he said harshly. “And goddamn it, do not tell me you felt as a friend does when you were in my bed!”
She stiffened. “That’s not fair.”
“You left me. That’s not fair,” he shot back, giving no quarter.
“After all you have done, it wasn’t fair, I agree completely. But I was desperate.”
He shook his head. “I will never believe you are desperate to be a shopkeeper. And what woman is truly independent? Only a spinster or a widow. You are neither.”
Slowly, hating her words, she said, “I had planned on the former.”
“Like hell,” he spat.
She accepted the dread filling her then. “You despise me now.”
“Are you truly so ignorant, so oblivious? How on earth could I ever despise you?” he exclaimed, leaning closer. “Would I be standing here demanding marriage if I despised you?”
She started. Her heart skipped wildly; she tried to ignore it. She whispered, “Why did you really pursue me?”
“I am a de Warenne,” he said, straightening. “As my father said so recently, there is no stopping us, not if it is a question of love.”
She gasped. Had she misheard?
Then he shook his head. “I will never believe you wish to be a shopkeeper! A beautiful lady stands before me, but if I strip away that gown, I know La Sauvage lives.”
She trembled, afraid she had misunderstood him completely. “I am never giving up the woman I have become. I like her far too much. But you are right, underneath, I still prefer the wind in my hair to a ball. Cliff! What do you mean, a question of love?”
“It means I must have the truth,” he demanded, his gaze glittering.
“Damn it, Amanda, do I not deserve the truth? I have been haunted by your words—you do not wish to be my ward. Is that not what you said? You ran away, not to be a shopkeeper, but to leave me! What have I done to cause you to dislike me so?” His wide eyes flickered with anguish.
“I thought the bond we shared was something far different.”
“Cliff! I do not despise you.” She hesitated, her heart pounding madly.
She had hurt him and she genuinely hated the choice she had made.
Worse, he still didn’t understand and while she was afraid to confess her love, she had no choice.
He deserved the entire truth. “My feelings haven’t changed.
They will never change,” she whispered, reaching out to touch his cheek.
He caught her hand and gripped it tightly, against his chest. “Then I don’t understand. How could you leave me?” he demanded. “Do you still love me? Because I made love to you, Amanda, and I have never made love to a woman before.”
Amanda cried out, incredulous.
“It was the most miraculous experience of my life, next to the realization I had in the front hall when I saw you in your ball gown. I believe I have loved you since you were a wild child, roaming the beaches of the island. Or maybe I began falling in love with you at King’s House, when you tried to assault the governor.
” His eyes blazed with emotion. “I tried very hard to deny not just my passion for you, but the feelings in my heart. I have never been in love before! Various members of my family have accused me of being obtuse, and now I agree with them. It took that eighteen-day separation for me to realize that I missed you the way I had never missed anyone before. When you came down those stairs, I realized I was fighting not lust, but love.” He took a breath and finally, he smiled.
Then the smile vanished. “Honor has nothing to do with my proposal.” His gaze was fierce.
“If you still love me, I must know now.”
Amanda was dazed. She went into his arms and allowed the tears to fall freely. “I have never stopped loving you. How could I?” Then she looked up. “Is this a dream? Do you really love me? How can you love me?”
“Well,” he said, smiling, his eyes going soft and dark at once, “if I exclude the obvious, such as your beauty and courage…” His smile faded and his expression became serious.
“I admire you as I have never admired anyone. But there is something more. When you were gone—when you left me—I felt lost and incomplete. I felt confused.” He hesitated. “I felt fear and panic.”
Amanda embraced him, realizing this man had probably never been afraid in his life. “I never wanted to be a shopkeeper,” she whispered against his chest. “I never wanted to leave you and I never want to leave you again.”
For one moment, he wrapped her as tightly as he could without crushing her. “Thank God,” he whispered back, tilting up her face. “Once, you told me you could think of nothing you would rather do than sail with me.”
Her heart leaped wildly, explosively. She reached up so she could clasp his beautiful face in her hands. “There is nothing I would rather do.”
His smile returned, beatific. He lifted her into his arms. “Then we are going cruising, my darling.” He carried her to the bed. “I have missed you. And I intend to show you just how much.”